


A New Artform

by RhetoricFemme



Series: KyoKao Week 2019 [1]
Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Hospital Setting, KyoKao Week 2019, M/M, Pining, Tokyo Ghoul crossover, kyokao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 10:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhetoricFemme/pseuds/RhetoricFemme
Summary: Ages of quiet flirtation and admiration between himself and Kaoru had not gone unnoticed, even if at the end of the day his being a ghoul left Kyoya’s heart insatiated and his arms empty. At least now Kaoru would know why he’d never dared make a move for more than inside jokes and niche conversations. The occasional brush of his hand and an intense stare.KyoKao Week 2019: Day Two: Horror/Mystery





	A New Artform

**Author's Note:**

> Happy KyoKao Week!!
> 
> So, when I first started reading Tokyo Ghoul a while back, I fell in love with it. Of course, it wasn't long before my mind decided that Ouran had to somehow get woven into it, hehe.

Yazuha shifts her weight in a vain attempt at getting comfortable in a hospital-grade bedside chair. Not that she’s too concerned with her own comfort exactly, though after hours beside her son, she can’t help but try.

Machines beep and bags drip. Surgical sites and attack wounds heal at an alarming rate beneath pink-tinged bandages, but the important part is that Kaoru continues to breathe. She dares not so much as leave her son’s side until he rouses, concerned less what he wakes as, so long as he simply wakes.

For now, it’s the only thing for which she cares.

They have company that first night, albeit uninvited.

Even so, Ootori Yoshio stands at the threshold of the recovery suite, his shadow long and dark across white, clinical walls. He comes not emboldened by his position as the guiding voice behind several of Japan’s best hospitals, but instead he stands in deference before Hitachiin Yuzuha and her son for the vastly personal liberties that had been taken on his behest.

Yoshio knows less of her personally, more of her by virtue of them both being high profile parents of Ouran students.

Of course, there is still the matter of his knowing her through the various channels in which Yoshio is inclined to become better acquainted with other people.

The networks and outlets through which he acquires a variety of information; from professional entities, to the families his son surrounds himself with, promises that in a way Yoshio already knows Yuzuha quite well.

The Hitachiin name is as long-established as Ootori. As well respected for their generosity, talent and candor in their art and fashion empires as his own family is prominent for their development and devotion to various medical industries.

Where she is world renowned for her eccentric attitude and classic designs, he is looked upon with a healthy blend of fear and respect in business and medicine—constantly manipulating the former so that he may better push the latter forward.

At the end of the day, neither Yoshio nor Yuzuha has ever been accused of not being shrewd or clever enough in their professional lives.

The biggest difference between the two families, however, lies in that while hers is entirely human in nature, the Ootori clan is made up completely of ghouls.

Whether their community is aware of it or not, Yoshio serves both sides of the Japanese public. He’s confident in his hospital’s ability to treat, heal, and serve people of all dispositions without so much as a thought to segregating one portion of the population from the other.

A lofty goal, perhaps, though he can think of no better way to prepare for the future than to create it himself. It hasn’t always been this way, but it’s how Yoshio chooses to do things now.

What the public doesn’t necessarily know is that Yoshio’s been doing it for years.

And while Yoshio will never offer an apology for the desegregation of Japan’s hospitals, he comes now to take responsibility for certain actions directed toward Yuzuha’s own son.

It hasn’t been quite twenty-four hours since he’d received a phone call informing him not only that an Ouran student had been attacked within their ward, but that the victim appeared to be an acquaintance of his youngest son.

 _Not just an acquaintance_ , Yoshio had sighed to himself.  A _nd not just an ordinary attack_.

What would it mean for their carefully crafted microcosm that another student had been behind the attack?

He’d called Yuzuha himself, waiting for her arrival to the hospital to inform her of the harrowing details, of the gravity of the situation her family was now in.

He’d told her in no uncertain terms the choices he’d made on her behalf, all on account of their sharing common ground and hopes for a different future.

More importantly than this, he’d made his choices in an effort to save the life of her son.

For the rest of his days, Yoshio will count it as the steepest bet of his life.

Now, Yuzuha’s eyes remain fixed on the rise and fall of Kaoru’s chest, though she grants Yoshio a weak smile of acknowledgment. Tears drip from the cleft of her perfect lips, and she makes no effort to hide or wipe them away.

“I know why you’re here, Ootori-san. It doesn’t matter.” She whispers insistently. “I don’t want your apologies.”

“He may want it.” Yoshio nods toward Kaoru, his sedate body finding rest and change at the same time. Yoshio keeps it to himself that he can already smell the intriguing difference in the boy’s scent. Keeps it to himself that from now on Kaoru will only carry a mere aftermath of the way he’d smelled while visiting the Ootori estate the previous week, and all the countless times before it. “His brother might demand answers, perhaps.”

She gives a slow shake of her head, a resolute truth brimming in her eyes. “If you hadn’t done what you did, Kaoru would be dead. Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t care whatever else he is. He’s always made the right choices up to this point. We’ve got no reason to assume that won’t be the same.”

“Their host club should provide him refuge.” Yoshio offers this with equal parts discretion and sobriety, looking for ways to provide consolation while not saying too much. To his own ears, however, it sounds like nothing more than paltry excuses.

“I’m aware. “ She smiles now, wiping stray tear drops away from Kaoru’s hand. “I’ve been dressing Morinozuka-san for years, you know. Her ukake is beautiful. Have you seen it?”

Yoshio nods, though he doesn’t bother betraying any further interest or emotion for the topic.

“You’re an asset to our community, Yuzuha-san.” His previous apology graciously unaccepted, he speaks to her now with fact-based honesty. “So few people walk a line between discretion and candor the way you and your family manage to. It doesn’t go unappreciated.”

“We can’t afford not to.” Yuzuha’s usually strong voice lilts now, as she runs idle fingers through her son’s auburn hair. Just like when he was a child. “Ghoul or human, it’s all the same. I don’t care. We’re all people, aren’t we? Our cells don’t decide whether or not we’re kind or terrible to each other.”

“Well said, Yuzuha-san.” Yoshio kowtows to her then. He sees glimpses of his own wife in her now; fussing over a child who tries so hard not to be a child anymore. “I don’t need to tell you that there is a certain community’s, as well as my own family’s support.”

She laughs under her breath at this, and looks at this notoriously unreadable man trying to reach out to her.

“You should visit my home some time, Ootori-san.” She muses. “My personal assistant is almost always either with me, or somewhere inside my house. Ever since I stole her from the front desk at Vogue Italy. She’s a sweet girl, and very good at her job, which in turn helps me to be even better at my job. And more time to try and be an attentive mother.”

She stops here for a moment, taking a moment for self-reflection. It’s the sort any mother haunts herself with even on the best of days, though now she tries to stave off thoughts that she could have prevented Kaoru being irrevocably hurt.

Shaking her head, she chides herself and banishes such thoughts before continuing.

“Anyways, Hikaru and Kaoru like to tease Suze-chan for being such a picky eater. Even when they were children, they knew there would be consequences for peeking inside the special bento boxes I promised her are safe to keep in our kitchen.”

 _Picky eater, indeed._ The corner of Yoshio’s mouth turns upward at this.

“Do your children know your assistant is a ghoul?”

“They don’t.” She confesses. “Telling them is Suze-chan’s prerogative, not mine. She has a nice relationship with the boys. I don’t blame her for keeping it to herself, though I imagine that might change, now.”

“I hope it does.” Yoshio ducks out of the doorway, then, having imparted everything he’d come to say. Staying any longer, he risks going beyond geniality and himself becoming personal. “If you need it, please don’t hesitate to come to us for help.”

Yuzuha nods, appreciative of the offer, though for the moment her head is lost somewhere between grief and insurmountable joy.

She’s pulled out of her reverie when Kaoru’s fingers squeeze gently around hers, and while he doesn’t wake yet, he continues to give the occasional squeeze as he no doubt hears his mother’s words. She tells him where they are, spares the details when informing him that his father is on a plane back home, and Hikaru had spent most of the day by his side.

“He’ll be back soon.” She whispers. “He just went out to take care of something. You know Hika can’t ever let well enough alone.”

 _Squeeze_.

Yuzuha works then, one hand devoted to Kaoru while the other shoots off texts to her husband, Suze-chan, and various peers and minions. She reminds Suze-chan to not only delegate her workload, but to also find personal time to rest and to just be.

_Silly girl. Just because she can go longer without eating, doesn’t mean she should._

It’s after midnight when Yuzuha finally falls asleep at her son’s side. It’s deep and fitful, but it’s still sleep.

And so the two bodies who enter the room take care not to wake her. Vigilant hands drape a hospital blanket around her slumped shoulders before coming around to the other side of the bed.

Hikaru sighs heavily, numb after a full day of anger, discovery, and confusion. Despite all of it, his motions are measured and careful as he spreads a blanket from home across his brother’s bed. The room is chilly, and he moves to cover Kaoru’s bare arms with the old, decadent fleece throw he so loves to travel with. Deep scratches, prominent and so boldly enflamed only yesterday, are now almost entirely gone, and Hikaru’s knuckles grip onto the blanket until they turn white.

“I’m sorry, Hikaru.” Kyoya’s words are hardly audible as he maintains a respectful distance, observing everything from his place in the doorway. He misses nothing, from the easy way the already enlightened mother continues to hold her son’s hand, to the already transformed top notes to Kaorus scent.

Kyoya sighs deeply, his trembling hands busy with shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Whatever.” Hikaru mutters, more to himself than anyone else. “He’s still my brother. That’s not going to change. Is it.”

“Not at all.” At the very least, there’s a certain amount of comfort to be had by the confidence in Kyoya’s words.

“But everything is going to be different now.”

“Yes.” Ah. And then there’s _that_.

Hikaru falls silent once again. His voice is hoarse from every emotion, every single damn exclamation and question he’s demanded out of this terrible day.

“I’m sorry.” Kyoya repeats, his words only gaining in their conviction.

Hikaru had learned of Kaoru through proper channels; his mother having gone to him immediately after Yoshio had gotten in touch with her. Kyoya, on the other hand, had been subject to Hikaru’s anger before anyone had told him of the situation.

An angry fist wrapped around the collar of his school uniform, Kyoya had remained entirely in control of himself despite being taken by surprise. This type of rage was no doubt different, but it was still Hikaru, after all.

But how unusual for Hikaru to become as upset as this, without any indication of Kaoru being nearby.

The frightened tears were what had truly tipped Kyoya off. Incoherent, livid demands for the truth about ghouls that had caused Kyoya to lose himself to instinct, his vision inking with the infusion of adrenaline and panic that is far too close to his heart.

Hikaru had let go, then, running off and allowing himself to be washed in unsupported betrayal.

He’d come to his senses somewhere during the day, most likely with Takashi’s urging at Kaoru’s bedside.

Hikaru had called him that evening, the sheer surprise of it enough to cut through infinite layers of Kyoya’s bereft, overanalytical mind.

_“You’ve got five minutes before my car pulls up outside, Senpai.”_

_Kyoya didn’t need it. The tablet that had eventually replaced his black notebook was already in his hands; notes and files of certain peers tabbed for his convenience._

_He was outside within seconds, having already resumed his search with his few remaining minutes before a nondescript black town car pulled into the Ootori estate’s pebbled grey drive._

_“Come on.” Hikaru’s blotchy, tear-fatigued face appeared instantly from a rolled down window. His voice had gone hoarse in a matter of hours. “I know you haven’t gone to see him yet. Get in.”_

They’d driven in silence, each of them holding in a myriad of things they wanted to say while lacking the words to convey any of it.

It had required sharing the same space as Kaoru for either Kyoya or Hikaru to find the clarity, the gumption to express any of what needed to be said.

“Quit apologizing, Senpai.” Hikaru groused. “I know you mean it, believe me. But it’s not your fault, and it’s weird hearing you say it over and over again when you hardly ever apologize for anything.”

 _Fair enough_.

“He’ll have more support than he could ask for.” Kyoya promises, still standing in the doorway of the too cold room. “All the resources and everything we’ve already learned.”

“We…”

“Hani-senpai. Mori-senpai, and myself.” Kyoya stops for a moment, as this particular truth is still so painfully new. “Things are better than they were even a few years ago. Laws have been put into place. There’s more integration than you probably think. In a way, nothing has to change. Kaoru’s free to choose his own trajectory.”

Hikaru nods feebly, only half listening. The rest of his concentration is on his twin, and the ways in which they’re now irreparably unglued from one another. He doesn’t bother to look up, though he answers with short words that put Kyoya’s heart and mind at ease. At least where he and Hikaru are concerned.

“What’re you standing over there, for?” Hikaru sniffles irately. “He’s not going to get better faster if he doesn’t know we’re here with him.”

“Trust me,” Kyoya whispers as he comes to stand beside Hikaru, his hands coming to grip the side of the bed. “He knows.”

“ ‘kay.”

They stand quietly for a few minutes, each of them lost in their own private vigils. Grateful to have Kaoru alive, and livid for him having been put into this position in the first place. There’s an element of curiosity for each of them, as they ponder how precisely Kaoru is going to be, and though he’d never admit it, it borders on an unnamed brand of excitement for Kyoya.

This is neither the time nor the place, he knows, watching as Hikaru keeps watch over his brother. It occurs to Kyoya then, that until they know more about the attacker’s intentions, that Hikaru would do well to not be caught unawares.

This must have crossed Hikaru’s mind as well, as the moment Kyoya speaks up his voice nearly sends Hikaru mid-air.

Kyoya smiles discreetly, then, turning to address Hikaru with his full attention. “All I intended to say is that you can ask me anything. You have my word that I’ll answer fully and honestly.”

“ ‘kay.”

“You don’t have to worry about him too much.” Kyoya continues, finally garnering the entirety of Hikaru’s attention. “I suppose you could more or less call it a lifestyle adjustment. Generally speaking, if we’re smart our family’s dispositions buffer us from whatever happens in the commoner wards.”

Hikaru nods, taking whatever new information he’s inevitably going to receive, as it comes.

“Actually, my family is acquainted with someone who I’m sure it would be good for Kaoru to meet. When he’s ready. Regardless of all that, I’ll protect him.” Kyoya says finally, his inflection betraying that this is what he’d yearned to say all along.

Hikaru ignores him at first, pouring all of his attention into fussing at Kaoru’s blanket. “One thing at a time, Senpai.”

It’s all a bit too much, Hikaru, feels. But in light of recent revelations, he finds himself caring less for the affections he’d always suspected Kyoya reciprocated for his brother, than he imagined he would. It seems they’re about to have bigger issues on their plates in the upcoming days.

“What about club?”

“What about it?” Kyoya answers him rhetorically. “We never mentioned it, but one of the reasons Tamaki established the host club was to offer in the most literal sense, a discreet getaway for the entire student body. No questions asked and no answers given, so everyone might have an opportunity to enjoy leisure with indiscriminate civility.”

“Fair enough.” Hikaru sighs. “We’re still your friends, though. You should have told us.”

“And that warrants apology.” Kyoya concedes. “It was never for a lack of trust, if that’s any consolation. To be quite honest, I’d had a notion for quite some time that Kaoru may have already known.”

“It’s possible.” Hikaru nods, various little pieces of that puzzle starting to fall into place in his own head. He’s always been good at figuring things out. ”Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe he’ll have an okay time figuring this out.”

Kyoya says nothing, but hums in agreement. They’re done for now, each of them having had their fill of what is bound to be an ongoing conversation. They exist now in mutual desire for some peaceful silence.

Or a close as either of them can get.

* * *

City lights bleed through transparent curtains, leaving an ethereal glow across everyone in the room.

Kyoya is the only one still awake, and he stands alone by the window. Arms crossed over himself, he embraces himself in search of inward support. He’s always been able to rely on himself in the past. Now, taking up space as the only non-family in Kaoru’s hospital room, he sees no reason for that penchant for self-awareness and care to waver now.

Regardless of all that, he feels privileged. Flanking either side of Kaoru are Hikaru and their mother, mirror images of one another as their bodies lay hunched and sleeping over the rails of Kaoru’s bed.

Hikaru bringhing him here was beyond what Kyoya had expected.

Ages of quiet flirtation and admiration between himself and Kaoru had not gone unnoticed, even if at the end of the day his being a ghoul left Kyoya’s heart insatiated and his arms empty. At least now Kaoru would know why he’d never dared make a move for more than inside jokes and niche conversations. The occasional brush of his hand and an intense stare.

For her part, their mother had always known.

Kyoya can recall the first time the lot of them had enjoyed an evening at the Hitachiin estate. Some grandiose scheme to dress Haruhi in delicate, effeminate clothing, and on top of it a rare occasion to actually find Hitachiin Yuzuha at home.

The twins had joked that she must have mixed something up somewhere, possibly imagining it to be their birthday. She’d chided them, calling them inhospitable hosts while thumping each of her boys across their heads.

_“Come, Kyoya-kun. I’m sure your parents raised you properly. You can help me bring everyone drinks.”_

_He’d obliged her, immediately straightening his spine and pulling his hands away from his pockets._

_“Of course, Hitachiin-sama.” He smiled beautifully for her. “My pleasure, entirely.”_

_Kyoya had followed her into the house, sparing only a quick look back at Kaoru, who looked up from where he’d been draping fabric across Haruhi from their place on the veranda._

_He found Yuzuha refreshing, charmed by the way she briskly walked ahead of him while craning her neck when addressing him. Asking him how his day had been, how school was going, and if he honestly enjoyed watching her sons play dress-up with Haruhi while Tamaki-kun fawned over all of it._

_Kyoya had laughed then, trying to meet her eyes when what he truly wanted to do was avert his gaze, to duck his head._

_“I come prepared for occasions such as these.” He confides, holding up a book for her to see. “I can appreciate the novelty they find in it, even though were it with anyone else, this might bore me.”_

_“Mm.” she hums. “Real friends are difficult to come by.”_

_“Indeed.” Kyoya agrees. His eyes span over the white marble of the Hitachiin kitchen, watches as Yuzuha heads for a cabinet near the coffee maker, the fiery red of her hair and nails a stunning contract to the pristine kitchen._

_“Kyoya-kun, would you help me, please?” she asks without turning around. “I need your height.”_

_Coming closer, she points out the object in question, thanking him in advance for the high reach._

_Kyoya gladly extends his arm upward, granting the motion no question until he’s pulled the item into view. His stomach churns with alarm for only a second before Yuzuha plucks the jar from his hands._

_Thanking him nonchalantly, she opens the jar while separating three of the seven coffee mugs on the counter, effortlessly plunking a sugar cube from the jar into each._

_Logically, Kyoya feels as though he should fear having just been trapped. But on the contrary, he listens when Hitachiin-Yuzuha decides to speak again._

_“You and I both know these are no ordinary sugar cubes.” Her voice is friendly and matter-of-fact. The impact of her revelation causes Kyoya to stand at full attention. Thankfully she has the courtesy to not make him wait. “These belong to my assistant, Suze-chan. This whole cabinet, actually, as well as the color-coded containers in the fridge. It’s all suitable for you.”_

_Kyoya nods his understanding, though his mind is admittedly elsewhere. “You keep a ghoul as your assistant?”_

_She laughs at this, an almost deprecating sound that embarrasses Kyoya for a fleeting moment. He recovers quickly, having heard the same laughter countless times from both of the twins, and he reasons that she means no insult._

_“I don’t keep anyone, Kyoya-kun. She’s earned the right to keep her job, just as anyone else hopefully would. And as you know, a good personal assistant often becomes a sort of member of the family. Suze-chan has been welcome here for years.”_

_“I see.”_

_“Yes.” She confirms, her smile warm and maternal. “You’ve all been friends long enough for me to feel like I can be a good judge of character. You’re all good boys. Haruhi is damn sharp, and a sweet girl. I’m sure being both an Ootori and a ghoul that you don’t take that for granted the way some people might do.”_

_Kyoya smiles, too. Where should he start?_

_Yuzuha laughs then, a light trill that fills the air. “Could it be that I just rendered you speechless? Oh dear, I did!”_

_She gives his elbow a gentle squeeze while placing a mug of coffee in his hand and grabbing one for herself. “Don’t worry about the rest of the drinks, dear. A maid will be along shortly to help with them.”_

_With that, she motions for Kyoya to follow her through the house and back to the veranda. “That was all I wanted to tell you, Kyoya-kun.”_

_The mug is hot in his hands, and though his features betray no specific emotion, Kyoya holds onto it with reverence. The heat is comforting and the smell divine. For all of his family’s wealth, it’s amusing to Kyoya that the blessed simplicity of coffee is one of the few tangible things he holds dear in this world._

_“Thank you, Yuzuha-sama.”_

_“Mmhm!” She beams at him, slowing her pace as they approach what seems to be the sound of Tamaki whining. “Come, now. I’m sure we both know how much Kaoru hates to be kept waiting.”_

_There isn’t a single doubt in Kyoya’s mind that she’d planned to make such a telling remark all along. Was it necessary, however, for her to wait for him to have a mug of burning liquid at his lips?_

_Kyoya waits then, listening to Yuzuha’s laughter as she goes on ahead while he waits for his excitement to die down. For the red of his eyes to dissipate. At least he’s skilled at keeping his kagune at bay._

_Outside, he hears Kaoru ask after him, followed by what is apparently trademark Hitachiin laugther._

_“Don’t worry, dear!” She answers jovially, her arms around Kaoru’s shoulders as she places her coffee into his hands. “I’m sure he’ll be along shortly.”_

 

 

* * *

Kyoya sighs now. He approaches the end of Kaoru’s bed, his footsteps falling in time to the synchronous rhythm of three people breathing. It’s the only sound that matters, and he singles out the cadence of Kaoru’s breath while focusing on the steady up-and-down of his chest.

“C’mon, Kaoru.” Kyoya whispers urgently.

Up to this point, he’s relied on a certain level of propriety where this incredible person is concerned.

Ignoring a certain longing that comes with his penchant for exceptional tastes. Averting his eyes when Kaoru is nearby for too long, lest he memorize too perfectly the cut and contours of that perfect body. Attempting not to employ the benefits of his non-human traits during those times when everything he wants is carnal in nature.

It doesn’t help to focus on the emotional impact Kaoru has on him. The effect Kaoru’s had on Kyoya’s goals, his perspective and demeanor… It’s enough to cause his lust to wane impossibly in comparison.

Now however, Kyoya throws all of that to the wayside as he rests a hand on Kaoru’s foot. Massaging gently, he speaks not caring whether or not anyone else might hear.

“This isn’t anything for you, Kaoru. As beautiful as you are stubborn…” Kyoya laughs beneath his breath, though the sound is nothing short of pained. “You won’t feel like it for a while yet, but you’re good. And you’ll be well. You’re fine, and waking up is all that’s left to do!”

 _Oh, no._ Those aren’t tears. He’s not crying. He’s not.

Kyoya releases Kaoru’s foot, every part of him feeling weakened and utterly useless. He traipses back to the window, stares at the blurred red and blue specks of the city. If Tokyo insists on being unapologetically bright at this hour, at least this twentieth story window keeps it shining silently.

_Deep breathes. No. All I can smell is him._

So very tired, Kyoya gives in just an inch, and leans his head against the wall.

_This is fine. I’m good for at least a few more hours. There’s still research to be—_

It isn’t quite words, but there is a definite breach to their silence. Even so, Kyoya can’t bear humoring false hope, is reluctant to turn around.

 _S’just Hikaru. Kaoru always complains that he moves too much in his sl_ —

Again. Kyoya’s chest heaves now as he tries to keep himself together, but he knows it’s different this time. His vision tints from this surge of adrenaline, for the new way the air around him moves. He isn’t imagining it, isn’t overestimating his senses when he zeroes in on the faintest beckoning.

“Kyo… Kyoya?”

There aren’t words for the near explosive exit Kyoya’s heart attempts from his chest.

“Kaoru?” _Turn around, Kyoya, turn around! You need to see him._ “You scared everyone, you know.”

Kaoru groans, the sound of it lost in his throat. Too weak to sit up, he grounds himself in Hikaru and his mother as their hands clasp his own.

“Kyoya?” He asks, his voice a wet, frightened lilt. “What happened? Why am in the hospital?”

It pains Kyoya to hear him so alarmed. He meters himself now—one measured breath in, another slow exhale out until his own vision clears. Is Kaoru so ill he hasn’t noticed this inked out rendition of Kyoya’s eyes? It can’t be that he doesn’t care.

Kyoya calms himself further, hiding behind the glint of his glasses until he’s certain that what Kaoru sees won’t frighten him.

In. Out.

In… Out…

_There._

“I don’t have all the answers, Kaoru, but something happened and you got hurt.” He whispers, still staring out the window. “It’s complicated. I don’t think it’s for me to explain everything to you, but everything’s going to be alright.”

“Kyoya?”

“Yes?” He’s prolonging it. Doesn’t dare come closer until he’s confident in his appearance, though neither does he wish to insult Kaoru’s intelligence.

It’s all so much to absorb, that there’s no possible way Kaoru doesn’t feel the difference. Before the words have left Kaoru’s mouth, Kyoya knows that he’s aware.

“You’re too far away.” Kaoru tells him. “Turn around?”

Kyoya pushes off the wall now, with no way in this world for him to deny Kaoru his request.

Kaoru lays as still as he can, even in his current state not wanting to disturb his mother or Hikaru. He smiles, though. Kyoya strides over without hesitation, prepared to be the peaceful element of transition, to hold Kaoru’s hand as he crosses the line into this world.

Kyoya waits for Kaoru’s assessment, stands ramrod straight at the foot of the bed, and oh is he a sight for sore eyes.

Everything hurts, but it doesn’t prevent excitement from shooting through Kaoru’s body. It’s all the testament Kyoya needs to step closer, and he bypasses Hikaru’s grip to take possession of Kaoru’s hand.

He stares up at Kyoya now, trying to gauge this new expression that he’s certain he’s never seen on Kyoya’s face before. There’s no single word for it, though it seems to be akin to various sentiments Kaoru himself is familiar with.

Devotion.  
Adoration.  
Sadness.

“What is it?” Kaoru asks, his voice quivering at whatever terrible things Kyoya might have to say. “Do... Do I look that bad?”

“No!” Kyoya doesn’t mean to laugh, but at this point it’s truly all he has left. He shakes his head confidently, and laces their fingers together. “No Kaoru, you… You’re ravishing.”

_The most stunning creature in the entire world._

_Sweet, but delusional._ If he’d the mental wherewithal in that moment, that is what Kaoru would have liked to say. As it is, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this tired in his life.

And so, he hangs onto Kyoya’s fingers and tries to smile. That same old fatigue, however, is threatening to take back over. It must be obvious, as Kyoya promises him it’ll be okay if he wants to go back to sleep. But only for a little while.

Kaoru hums with gratitude, feeling the comfort of family by his side and Kyoya right alongside all of them. It’s such a warm thought, that this is where he belongs.

It’s a short journey from his current state to sleep, and Kaoru spends it staring past the elegant cut of Kyoya’s glasses and into stormcloud eyes. He’s never given himself permission to so blatantly stare, but he does so now.

Kyoya stares back while saying nothing. His thumb rubs comforting circles across Kaoru’s hand while studying one amber, and one red-black eye.

**Author's Note:**

> Dani you are amazing. I never would have pulled this story out of my files two years after first writing it, were it not for you.
> 
> Thank you for helping to keep me inspired. <3
> 
> \------------  
> If you've never read Tokyo Ghoul before, the only thing you need to know for this story is this:
> 
> 1\. Ghouls and humans typically don't associate with one another. This oneshot takes place just far ahead enough in the TG-verse, that integration has been quietly happening for quite some time, albeit mostly under the radar.
> 
> 2\. Ghouls don't eat food, but they _do_ drink coffee. Oftentimes with a sugar cube that's got a ghoul-centric supplement added to it.
> 
> 3\. _Kagune_ : A ghoul's predatory appendage. There are four different kinds, and they're _brilliant_.
> 
> Okay, that's all. I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!


End file.
